I can’t remember that the movie is over
If I stand too close I’ll keep falling into
Owls. Tree hollows            I’ll watch you
drink with your orchid mouth speak
the word session. But then you’d think
I might use my thumb then keep Examining
your spine. Pressing shapes into my skin
to stand like shadows. I’d like in our movie
for you to lay me down I want you to explain
it to me avoiding politics. There’s magic in
my palm I will heal you in threes. I’ll watch
your movie of you a heavy lift about linear
time and four showers a day. Liable to argue
about rushing. Dizzy in the heat I look like
the deer. Wings dripping wax too close to
the sun keeper of my breath start the movie
again. The worst party in the world was not
your double standard   childhood fantasy.
Teach me how to park O Transferor of pain.
The witness an intolerably beautiful ball of
string to be carried through the labyrinth. Go
make some popcorn I’m obsessed with reality.



from Mud Swallow–published by Bottlecap

Buy it here



By Sophie Appel 👍

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